


Second Step on a Downward Spiral

by bessemerprocess



Category: Anderson Cooper 360 RPF, Countdown RPF, Fake News RPF, Pundit & Broadcast Journalist RPF (US), Real News RPF, The Colbert Report RPF, The Daily Show RPF, The Rachel Maddow Show RPF
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, F/M, Sensation Play, prt angst verse, sun burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-09
Updated: 2009-07-09
Packaged: 2017-10-02 17:59:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bessemerprocess/pseuds/bessemerprocess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keith gets a sunburn, Rachel takes advantage of the fact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Step on a Downward Spiral

**Author's Note:**

> For kink_bingo, prompt: sensation play, also includes: blood in a sexual situation, power differential. Set in the Angst 'verse.  
> This is for sarken, whose idea it was in the first place, and who beta'd this within a inch of its life. Thank you!

Keith is happy and drunk and sunburned. Anderson's cheap-ass wine coolers are still humming through his bloodstream, and Rachel's more potent sidecars are on top of that, making the world spin pleasantly.

They'd been having a small celebration on the roof of Anderson's building. Just Jon and Stephen, Anderson and of course, Rachel. There'd been some food and laughter and a lot of sun. He hadn't worn a shirt or sunscreen and now he's burnt past crispy.

It was nice. He hadn't even felt out of place, like he had felt so often recently. Even the good time hadn't stopped him form wanting to go home with Rachel, from contemplating what she would chose to do with him tonight every time she brushed close.

Rachel has a way of teasing without meaning too, or at least, without seeming to mean it. A finger pressed too long on the faded bruise on his arm, the base of her beer bottle brushed across the nape of his neck, a raise eyebrow. It's a good thing Keith has a head full of baseball stats, or his interest would have been apparent to everyone.

Rachel drags him back to his place. She's still wearing a tank top and shorts shorter than Keith would've ever guessed she owned. She smells of sunscreen and booze and everything right in the universe. All he really wants to do is bury his nose in her skin and inhale and never leave.

He sprawls across his bed. There's no other word for the boneless, alcohol induced posture. Rachel has gone to find another beer, and Keith just wants to lie here and enjoy the world.

He's listening to the blood pulse in his ears when Rachel crawls up the bed and straddles him, beer still in one hand. Her shorts are so short, her skin touches his and his heart speeds up. She runs a fingertip down his back and Keith shivers involuntarily. Her fingers are chilly from the beer, and Keith's skin is hot and tight.

Just the difference in temperature is enough to bring him full attention. She replaces her finger with the bottle. The cold is so unexpected that he gasps. She runs the cool and slightly wet bottle over his sides then down his spine, letting it come to a rest on the hollow of his back. The cold permeates in his hot skin and he can't hold in his whimper.

"Rach," he gasps when the bottle is suddenly removed. For a moment, she sits there, still straddling him, and he can feel her gaze on the red skin of his back. Finally, she touches him again. A single fingernail trailing across his shoulder blade. He moans at the rightness of the sensation.

Rachel presses harder, fragile skin parting beneath her fingernail, a trail of blood welling up. Keith groans into the pillow, rubbing himself against the sheets. The cool, blunt pressure of her fingertips contrast nicely with the stinging rip her fingernails have left in his skin.

She pauses then, and he knows she's wondering if she's gone too far. She's never drawn blood before, never watched as it welled up out of his body. Keith's not going to say anything, though. He wouldn't even if he was losing blood by the gallons, and this is only the tiniest amount.

"Rach," he manages to get out, knowing he's not going to last long if he can get her to touch him again. He can feel the skin of her thighs pressed against his sunburned torso, cool and smooth. It's almost too much against the rough heat of his skin. His cock is so hard, pressed between the sunburned skin of his stomach and the soft cotton of the sheets.

She pushes harder on the second pass, confident and with all five fingernails this time, making a bloody trail down his back. His heart is pumping so hard he can hardly hear her saying his name. He's becoming lost in a place between pleasure and pain, unable to distinguish one from the other, only wanting more.

"Keith," Rachel is saying and he groans in response. His name on her lips is almost as good as the crescents of her fingernails dug deep into his flanks.

'Keith," she says again. This time his name is followed by her teeth dragging over, and then down into, his shoulder. The pain breaks against him like a wave and he can't help but to buck once against the clean sheets and come, howling.

"Keith," she says once more, after he has gone still. She rubs her cheek across the marks on his back, just like an affectionate cat, before crashing beside him.

He moves to get up but she stills him, and wanders off to the bathroom while he lays face down, not moving. She returns with a washcloth and neosporin and proceeds to clean his wounds. She is gentle this time as she straddles his back. It feels almost as good as her nails had the first time around. After she is done, she moves back beside him. She smells like sunscreen and booze and coppery blood, and that's how he knows everything is truly right in the world.


End file.
